His White Queen
by Cassodembreankia
Summary: (Set around early S2) Jefferson's work with the hat lost his wife, Rosemary. Now, the curse has been broken and he's been reunited with his daughter - his Grace. His happy ending. But enter Heather, Rosemary's younger sister, who's determined to be a part of her niece's life. She might give Jefferson a second chance at another happy ending.
1. Chapter 1

"Jefferson!" a female voice shouted. The Hatter stopped in his tracks, letting his daughter run forward with her friends. He turned to see a girl in her mid-twenties jogging up to him. She had long brown hair and dark eyes, was wearing black skinny jeans, a black tank top with a green jacket over it, black combat boots, and a thick brown leather cuff on her right wrist. She looked oddly familiar to Jefferson—but he couldn't quite place why. "May I speak with you for a moment?"

He hesitated. "You may?" he edged cautiously. "What do you want with me?"

"I don't want anything from you. I want something from Grace."

Instantly Jefferson was on the defensive. "What do you want from Grace?" he demanded.

"Relax. I want to be her friend. I think I deserve to know my niece."

"What?"

"Her _mother_ —my older _sister_ —was taken from her when she was very young. At some point in her future before you even know it she's going to need a woman in her life. To talk about boys and nail polish. I want to be there for her."

Jefferson's jaw opened slightly as he realized why she looked familiar. She looked very similar to his late wife. Almost just like his Rosemary. He hadn't seen his young sister-in-law since his wedding to her older sister so long ago. She had grown up quite a lot. Into a beautiful young woman. She looked so like his wife that it almost knocked him over. She even wore her hair the same way—in a high ponytail. "Heather?" he breathed, in awe.

"In the flesh," she replied. "Just let me be there for her. I'll help you take care of the house. I'll help you take care of her. I just want to be there for her. My parents—her _grand_ parents—died right before the curse hit. She's the _only_ family I have left." She shrugged. "Please? She can come to my apartment on Fridays and we'll paint our nails with hot chocolate and popcorn and we can go shopping and I'll take her to Granny's for breakfast. I just want to be her aunt and spoil her. Please."

Jefferson's face softened. "Why live on your own? The house has plenty of room for you to come live with us. I'd be grateful for some help with the cleaning. It's a… big house." He scratched the back of his head and tugged a bit on his scarf so Heather caught a brief glimpse of the scar that circled his entire neck.

Heather smiled. "I'd be happy to."

"Grace!" Jefferson called. The eleven-year-old girl jumped up and rushed over.

"Yes Papa?"

"This is Heather—your mother's younger sister. She's going to come live with us," he said carefully.

"Hello," Heather greeted.

"Hi!" Grace exclaimed, giving Heather a hug. "It's nice to meet you!"

"It's nice to meet you too."

With that, Grace went off to play with her friends. Jefferson stared after her for a moment, making sure she was okay.

"Go ahead. Go play with her. If I'm moving out I guess I better pack up." She patted her brother-in-law on the back and trotted off. The Hatter watched the young woman go, her high ponytail swinging back and forth, wondering. Still gazing at the back of her green jacket, he took a few backwards steps towards the playground before turning around to go play with his daughter in earnest. Grace giggled when he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her into the sky. When he set her down, she turned around excitedly, her curly hair bouncing.

"So Aunt Heather is going to live with us in the big house?"

"Yup."

"Is she gonna be like Mama?"

"She's going to look after you when I can't, and she's gonna help me take care of the house. But she won't replace your mother."

"But what if you fall in love with her and get married?"

"Oh my dear Grace. That won't happen. She can't replace your mother."

"She doesn't have to _replace_ Mama. You should have a happy ending too."

" _You're_ my happy ending, sweetie."

"But what about when I grow up and find _my_ happy ending?"

"Then I'll be happy knowing you were happy." He chuckled and ruffled her hair. "Now let's go see what mayhem we can make." He scooped his daughter up into both his arms and glanced down to the last place he'd seen Heather while Grace squealed. She was gone—of course—but for a moment he thought he saw that green jacket of hers in a window just above where he'd last seen her.

He shook his head to clear it and marched off, Grace calling for her friends to follow them. The other girls laughed and ran after the Hatter and his daughter, chattering like a flock of brightly-colored, excited birds. Jefferson smiled as he set his little girl down on the ground. Grace had never had many friends in the Enchanted Forest. It was a change. Even though there still weren't many, they were there. And that was all he could ask for—for her to be happy.

They spent the day running around the town, not making actual mayhem but joking around and being silly.

When they dropped off all of Grace's friends and got back to the mansion after dark, there was an unfamiliar car in the driveway. Jefferson took a quick glance at the interior through the windows, decided it was Heather's, and didn't bother to question it.

His sister-in-law was sitting in the entrance hall with a few boxes milled about her feet. "I didn't know where you'd want me to be so I thought I'd wait for you to get back," she said apologetically.

Jefferson knelt down and looked Grace in the eye. "Take your aunt and go pick out a room," he whispered with a smile. Grace grinned, rushed over to Heather, took her hand, and trotted off to go look at all the rooms in the house. The Hatter watched the girls leave and spent a moment organizing the boxes a bit. He pulled off his overcoat, hung it on the rack, and scratched the back of his head. He'd seen some of the things in the boxes—clothes, books, and a few mementos. Heather was a pretty light packer. One of the mementos was somehow a picture of her with Rosemary in this world's clothing, smiling in dresses like it had been a professional portrait.

Before he knew it, they were back. Grace picked up one of the lighter boxes and Heather one of the heavier ones. They disappeared back into the halls of the house. Jefferson snagged a box himself and followed them.

He chuckled and barely kept himself from rolling his eyes when he saw which room Grace had probably insisted Heather take.

The one right next to his on the other side from Grace's own.

"I should have known," he muttered.

As he set the box of books down next to the bed, he heard Grace gasp. She pulled a beautiful midnight-blue ball gown out of the box she'd been carrying. "Where did you get this?! It's beautiful!" the eleven-year-old exclaimed. Heather glanced up from the bundle of jackets she'd been pulling out and grinned amusedly.

"That's mine from back home. I wore it to a ball when my best friend became betrothed to a nobleman," the young woman explained. "When you're old enough, you can wear it to your prom."

Grace's face lit up. "Really?" She looked to her father—who chuckled.

"If your aunt says it's okay for you to wear her dress, then you can," he told her.

The little girl rushed across the room and gave her aunt a big hug. "Thank you!"

Heather took the dress gently from her niece's hands and hung it from a hanger in the closet. She knelt down and pulled something else out of the same box. "My mother made this for me for if I ever got married. It's not quite as elegant as my sister's, but it's beautiful nonetheless." The pure white gown and pearl circlet with a tulle veil shimmered in the light like it was embedded with shredded diamonds. Jefferson felt his eyebrows twitch a little higher. "I'm grateful that they came over with me," she finished quietly, almost like she didn't want the others to hear. She hung the thing in the closet behind the other dress in a garment bag. "Even though I'll probably never wear them again."

"Sure you will," Grace dismissed. "You'll wear them sometime!"

Before she could say what Jefferson _thought_ she was going to say, he interrupted. "Grace, my dear, you have school tomorrow. Go get ready for bed. Heather and I will finish with the boxes." He kissed her forehead and shooed her out of the room.

The adults spent the next twenty minutes moving the boxes into the room.

"Jefferson?" Heather asked as Grace brushed her teeth. "I want you to have this." She reached into one of the boxes and pulled out a framed photograph.

It was Rosemary, her golden-brown hair flying about her face in a sea-wind. She was standing on a beach with the ocean behind her, brown eyes glittering with mirth, wearing a sea-foam green shirt and a flowing gray skirt.

She looked very much like her little sister. "I have a false memory of taking that picture," Heather commented. "I think it would do you better to have it."

Jefferson took it in his hands for a moment and gazed at it almost longingly before giving it back. "No. It's yours," he said. Heather shrugged and set the photo on the dresser in the room. If she was anything like Rosemary she definitely had it in her to argue, but he was grateful she didn't because he wasn't in the mood for it. He pulled a few more clothes out of a box and left them to Heather to sort through. "I'm going to go tuck Grace in. Once she's asleep we can talk more."

Heather shrugged again. "Okay. See you in a bit."


	2. Chapter 2

"Grace asleep?" Heather asked as she trotted down the stairs. Jefferson was sitting on a sofa, idly sharpening a pair of scissors with his boots on the coffee table and a cup of tea on the arm next to him.

"Yeah. She wouldn't stop talking about how excited she is that you're here to stay with us."

Heather dropped casually on the other end of the sofa and copied his position, putting her boots up on the table. She picked up the cup of tea he'd left on it for her and took a nice long drink. "I hope she doesn't think I'm replacing her mother. Because there's no way I could do that. Rosemary… she could juggle the world if she wanted to. She could handle anything. I'm just the little sister."

"She doesn't think you're replacing her mother," Jefferson reassured her. "She just got really excited when I said you'd do your nails together and stuff." Heather smirked and took a sip of her tea as he drank some of his own. For a moment the Hatter wondered if he should tell his sister-in-law the other part that he hadn't mentioned—that Grace kind of hoped Heather would become his happy ending. He decided he didn't know the young woman well enough yet to tell her. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable living in the same house as him even if he made it clear that he had no intentions to make her his "happy ending".

Though he _did_ steal a quick glance at her out of the corner of his eye.

She wasn't his Rosemary, but she was beautiful.

"I'm glad. I'm excited to be part of her life too."

Jefferson set his tea and the scissors down on the coffee table, turning to look at Heather properly. Her green jacket had slipped off one of her shoulders, revealing her bare skin. Like most everyone else in Storybrooke, she was pale from the perpetual overcast and dreary Maine weather. "Would you like to watch something on the TV?" he offered. Her brown eyes flicked to the large flat-screen mounted on the wall and back to him.

"If you'd like. I don't mind. But it's getting late and I should probably get to sleep. It's been a long day for all of us."

"Have a good night, then," Jefferson remarked.

Heather finished off her tea, stood up, and took the cup into the kitchen. She rinsed it, set it in the dishwasher, and departed to her new room. Glancing around at her now-organized things, she heaved a sigh, changed into her pajamas, brushed her teeth in the "girls' bathroom" at the end of the hall, and went back into the bedroom. Yawning, she turned down the sheets and climbed into them, raising her eyebrows at how soft they were. Her own back in her apartment had always been mostly comfortable—but they couldn't even hold a candle to the ones she ran her feet through as she settled in.

She put her iPod earbuds in her ears, turned on her "Sleep Music" and closed her eyes.

It was around midnight when the hall light eased through Heather's doorway as someone opened it. She wasn't quite asleep yet so she peeled one eye open and pulled her headphones out.

Jefferson was peering through the crack in the doorway.

"Are you _checking on_ me?" she asked amusedly, grinning and lifting her head to see him.

A tiny shade of red tinted his cheekbones. "I was just checking in on Grace and thought I'd make sure you were settling in," he replied.

She chuckled. "That's awfully kind of you. Thank you."

Her brother-in-law smiled. "You're welcome. Have a good sleep."

"You too!"

The beam of light across her eyes narrowed until the door was shut again. Heather plopped back down onto her pillow and relaxed, putting her earbuds back in. Her mind was still on the Mad Hatter. No one had bothered to check on her since she was a very young child. It was kind of cute—or sweet—that he'd thought of her. He'd always been a pretty good man—a bit strange or eccentric at times, sure—who'd put his family first as much as possible.

She just hadn't expected to fall into that category.

As Heather drifted off to sleep, there was a smile on her face.

Until about four hours later when she had a nightmare.

She woke up panting and fighting down a scream—it turned into a frightened yelp that Grace wouldn't hear two rooms away but might have woken Jefferson. She closed her eyes as she wiped the sweat off her face on the sleeve of her pajama top and tried to calm her breathing.

A light knock echoed off the door. "Heather? Are you alright?" Jefferson asked.

"Bad dream. I'm fine. Go back to sleep," she replied.

The door opened. "Wanna talk about it?"

She shrugged. "Not particularly."

He raised one eyebrow. "Tell me."

Blowing a raspberry past her lips, she sighed. "Two lives in my head," she started simply. "Sage and Heather. False memories and real ones. They're fighting each other. It's nothing major but it is distressing when I'm asleep. I've gotten them every week or so since the curse was broken. Go back to sleep."

Jefferson folded his arms, still standing in the doorway. "Your name was Sage under the curse," he commented. It wasn't a question.

"Yup."

He took a single step into her room to be friendly and comforting but not threatening or uncomfortable. "It's enough to drive me mad, two lives warring inside my mind. What makes you think it's nothing major?" he asked gently.

She shrugged again. "It's not. They're just dreams. Bad ones. But just dreams. Go back to sleep."

How many times did she have to repeat those four words before he got the message?

After a few moments of tense silence, he was the one to shrug. "Alright. Sleep better."

"I'll try," she muttered.

The door closed.

Heather couldn't help it—she was touched that he would come make sure she was okay even though it was four in the morning. She grinned at the door and plopped back down onto the pillow, staring at the ceiling until sleep claimed her once more.

She couldn't remember the next morning if she'd dreamt any more.

* * *

 **End Note: Jefferson deserves like a whole** ** _season_** **of OUaT! How he got the hat, how he learned to use it, some of his insane travels between realms, meeting his wife, wooing her and marrying her and such,** ** _how she was lost_** **, Grace's early life (though the pre-Grace Jefferson in that one episode of season 2 was totally awesome and hilarious and I want more of** ** _that)_** **.**

 **To "SarahSmith95": Really? All your favorites? I'm super happy you like my writing style! I definitely will keep it up! It's reviews like these that make me want to keep writing! Thank you!**

 **By the way, to those who have read some of my other stories, Yes! I have a** ** _slight_** **Sebastian Stan problem.**

 **Thanks for reading! Leave a comment or question if you have one!**


	3. Chapter 3

When Jefferson went down the stairs the next morning, Heather was already awake, fully-clothed, and whistling as she whisked around the kitchen.

She was making breakfast.

For three.

"Morning," he greeted. She jumped slightly, turned, and grinned.

"Morning, Jefferson!" she exclaimed brightly. "I didn't know when you two would get up but I woke earlier than usual and thought I'd get a head start on breakfast. Nothing like waking up to the smell of pancakes and hot chocolate. Would you prefer coffee or tea?" She got out both the kettle and the coffee pot and held them out.

"Coffee. For the morning. Thanks."

Heather started making the coffee for him, and cocoa for herself and Grace. Jefferson moved to help her but she glared at him until he sat at one of the stools at the breakfast bar.

"How did you sleep after…?"

"The nightmare? Just fine. Thank you. For coming in to see if I was alright." Heather blushed a little in embarrassment and passed him a plate full of breakfast. He stared at it. For a girl who lived alone for the past twenty-nine years and had no one to impress, she made very delicious-looking pancakes.

That also tasted like heaven.

Jefferson couldn't help it—he let out a sigh of pleasure.

Heather smirked. "Like it?"

"Yes!"

"My mother taught me how to make these after Rosemary got married. She said to me, 'Heather baby, you're gonna end up married one day just like your sister and you better know how to cook!' And she taught me. For the longest time I thought I wouldn't be able to cook the way she and Rosemary did—both of them were so good at it and I managed to drop everything for the first several weeks. But eventually I learned and started _liking_ it." She shrugged nonchalantly and turned back to the coffee pot. She poured some in his mug and finished with the cocoa for her and Grace—

Right as the younger girl rushed down the stairs. "Papa! What smells so good?" she asked excitedly.

"Your aunt made breakfast," Jefferson replied with a smile, turning around to give his very chipper daughter a big hug. She held him tightly while smiling brightly at Heather—who could swear she could see hearts in her eyes. She grinned back at how the cute the scene was in front of her. When Jefferson pulled back he gave her a very teasingly-stern look. "Now how about school?"

"After breakfast, Papa!"  
"Of course, my dear." He kissed her head and moved to get up but Heather held her hands out.

" _I'm_ making breakfast. Stay out of the kitchen while I'm cooking!" she sassed.

Jefferson put his hands up in surrender and sat back next to his daughter as Heather slid a plate with pancakes full of chocolate chips and nearly _drowned_ in syrup and whipped cream across the breakfast bar to the eleven-year-old girl, who looked delighted.

Grace's eyes widened when she took her first bite and Heather grinned, setting a mug of hot chocolate next to her niece's plate.

"So, Grace. What's your favorite subject in school?" Heather asked, sitting across the breakfast bar from the father and daughter with her own prepared breakfast. She took a big drink from her hot chocolate and then looked her niece right in the eye, making sure Grace knew she was interested and listening. The little girl lit up like a firework.

"Science!" she exclaimed.

"Why?"

"Because it's like magic except harder and it's fun! The other day my teacher brought in a microwave and we put a highlighter in it and it pretty much blew up! It was so cool!" Her face fell and she cast her eyes down. "But not many other girls like science in my class."

"Hey," Heather said. Grace looked up. "I _loved_ science when I was in high school. And just because they don't like it doesn't mean you're not friends, right?"

"Right."

"And if you ever want someone to talk to about science, go ahead and ask me. Remind me later to tell you about the time when I was in Physics and we almost electrocuted everyone in class."

The younger girl's face lit up again. "Okay!"

Jefferson finished his breakfast and got to his feet. "Okay, Grace. Time for school." Grace hopped to her feet and grabbed her backpack and coat. She took her father's hand and they headed for the door. Heather stayed in the kitchen, finishing up the last bit of her own breakfast and starting the clean up the very minimal mess she'd created. Jefferson stopped as he opened the front door and looked back. "Leave that for later. Come with us," he offered. Heather opened her mouth to protest but Jefferson gave her his "father" look. "Don't even argue, Heather. Just come."

Grace nodded excitedly.

Heather glanced at the dishes for a moment before turning back to her family and following them towards the door, grabbing her green jacket as she went. "Okay then," she conceded.

Grace smiled and took Heather's hand with hers. "Yay!" Heather wanted to tug her hand away because she didn't want to make it look like she was trying to replace Rosemary, but Jefferson gave her a subtle shake of his head and shrug of his shoulders before he walked out the door, tugging Grace and by extension Heather out with him.

The three of them walked towards Grace's bus stop while Heather silently prayed Regina or Mr. Gold or someone wouldn't see them. She didn't want to put up with snide comments from anyone in town. Grace was bouncing along brightly, the bubbly light in her eyes making her smile at nothing and laugh at the simplest of things. Heather and Jefferson shared grins of amusement over her head as she happily greeted her friends when they joined the small parade to the bus stop.

Heather gave Grace a hug. "Have a good day, Gracie. Go do some science!"

Grace grinned. "I will!" She gave her father a hug and climbed the steps of the bus behind her friends.

Jefferson and Heather waved to her as the bus pulled away and then went walking back to the house, maintaining respectful but friendly distance from each other, both with their hands in their pockets to combat the chilly Maine morning.

They made it back to the house without incident or running into someone and went about their own separate activities, only coming together when Heather poked her head into a parlor while Jefferson played the piano to ask if he wanted some lunch—which he politely accepted. They talked for a while before Heather went back to exploring the house. She'd never been in one so big in this life.

She liked looking around. There were all sorts of strange things—including the study where Jefferson had made hundreds of hats. Her favorite was the balcony of the third floor. She could see the whole forest from that vantage point.

But after a while she found herself sitting outside the parlor where Jefferson was playing the piano and just listening with her head leaned against the wall. He played very well. It was a piece she didn't recognize, but didn't care because it was beautiful. She closed her eyes and just listened, sitting on the carpet and just letting the gentle notes drift into her mind.

Then she heard him mutter to himself as the music faltered. "Grace!" he hissed.

Heather leapt to her feet and silently rushed out of the corridor and towards her room. She yanked her shoes back on and grabbed her jacket, realizing they had to get going if they wanted to be at the bus stop on time to pick her up. "Jefferson!" she called. "How about I go get Grace and you stay here?" She knew there was _no way_ he was going to agree, but just to make it look like she hadn't been listening outside the door to him playing piano.

"No, no, I'll come too," he replied as she reached the front door and zipped up her jacket. He shrugged into his coat and they both left the house.

* * *

 **End Note: I forgot to mention that the title is partially inspired by the fact that my older sister has told me throughout my life that I look like Anne Hathaway - though more recently a friend mentioned that I look like Hayley Atwell (Peggy Carter). The other reason is every single time I take a "Which fictional land do you belong to?" quiz, _I ALWAYS END UP IN STORYBROOKE!_ _Always!_ And at first I was like, "Ugh. I don't want to live in Storybrooke!" Then I started thinking about it and I was like, "Meh. That's okay. Storybrooke has Sebastian Stan in it." ;-)**

 **To "SarahSmith95": Thank you! Good to know there's no such thing as a Sebastian Stan problem! Also AAAHHHHHH! A FAN? REALLY?! YOU'RE TOO SWEET TO ME! HOPE YOU LIKE WHATEVER ELSE I'VE BEEN WRITING!**

 **Thank you for reading! Leave a comment if you have one!**


	4. Chapter 4

"Heather?" a tiny voice asked timidly, waking Heather up. Her brown eyes blinked open to see Grace standing to the side of her bed, looking shy but shaking.

"What goin' on, sweetie?" she asked, glancing around her niece's shoulder to check the time.

Two in the morning.

Grace ducked her head. "I had a bad dream and Papa isn't in his room," the young girl admitted.

Heather smiled and propped herself up on one elbow. She flung the covers on the other side of her bed down and patted the mattress. "Hop up kiddo," she told her niece. Grace scrambled up onto the taller bed as Heather lowered herself back down. Grace was holding a stuffed white rabbit with all her strength. "I bet this little guy is going to protect you from nightmares for the rest of the night." She ruffled the fake fur on the toy ears, making Grace smile. "And so will I. Do you think you can sleep now?" Grace nodded timidly and burrowed into the covers. "Good girl. I'm right here," Heather murmured, stroking Grace's hair comfortingly the way her own mother had done for her when she'd had bad dreams growing up.

Grace held her aunt's hand until she fell asleep. Heather smiled tiredly and dropped back off herself.

Jefferson was on the third-floor balcony, record player softly spinning out a tune he could barely hear. He was staring at the stars, thinking—about Rosemary. He'd loved her with all his heart. When his work with the hat caused her death, he felt as though he could never forgive himself. But he had to take care of Grace. He had to be happy for her. She was his happiness, but that didn't mean that he didn't miss his Rosemary.

As the record wound to a close, he pushed the thing back inside and went to check on his daughter.

Her bed was empty and messy.

Panic swept over him and his eyes widened.

He rushed two doors down the hall and practically threw Heather's door open, ready to wake her up to tell her that Grace was missing and they had to go find her—

But he stopped when he saw Grace and Heather asleep on Heather's bed. Grace was clutching her stuffed rabbit tightly to her chest with one hand and her aunt's hand with the other. Her curly light brown hair was spread all over her face. Jefferson relaxed, relief spreading through his body. She must have had a bad dream and crawled in with her aunt when she couldn't find him.

Silently he stepped into the room, brushed his daughter's hair out of her face, kissed her forehead, and retreated to the door. He gave his sister-in-law a lingering, grateful look before closing the door silently and going back to sleep next door.

Heather woke the next morning to the other side of her bed empty and made. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes until she could see the clock. Seven-thirty.

"Mmm," she groaned to herself, planting her face back into her pillow.

The door burst open. "Surprise!" Grace called. Heather jumped and twisted to see the eleven-year-old and her father coming in with a tray. Jefferson looked apologetic while Grace looked absolutely ecstatic. Heather stared, blank and tired and confused, as Jefferson set the tray on her lap.

"Grace thought it would be a good idea to make you breakfast in bed for helping her with her nightmare last night," Jefferson commented.

Heather chuckled and ruffled her niece's hair. "That's cute, kiddo. Thanks."

Grace giggled. "I was thinking, since it's Friday, maybe tonight we can kick Papa out and watch a movie and paint our toenails and have popcorn and have a girls' night! Can we?" she asked excitedly. Heather chuckled and looked over Grace's head at Jefferson, who was smiling at his daughter with all the amusement in the world. Heather smiled herself and looked back down at Grace seriously.

"You'll have to ask your papa," she answered.

Grace whirled around to look up. "Please Papa?" she pleaded.

Jefferson smiled. "Of course, my dear Grace," he replied.

Grace bounced up and down excitedly and gave her father a big hug. "Thank you thank you thank you!" she squealed.

"But for now, you're going to go get ready for school," he added, pretending to be stern. Grace obviously didn't buy it but she went off to go get ready anyway. Jefferson shook his head with amusement and turned back to Heather. "Go ahead and eat. You deserve it. Grace told me about her nightmare and that you promised that you and her rabbit would keep them away. Rosemary used to say that to her too."

"I'm not trying to replace Rosemary. I told you that. I'm just trying to help. It's just something that my mother used to tell us if we had nightmares that woke us up in the middle of the night," Heather explained quickly.

"Thank you," Jefferson remarked, catching Heather off guard. She thought he was going to be somewhat angry that she was acting the same way as her sister would when she wasn't trying to be her sister. The fact that he was being kind and grateful wasn't what she was expecting. She knew he wasn't a violent man or anything, but he always seemed very particular about people.

She shrugged. "You're welcome."

He nodded at the tray. "Eat. Then we'll take Grace to the bus stop."

Heather smiled and picked up the fork. "Okay," she replied with a smile.

* * *

 **End Note: Love this story! Thanks for reading!**

 **SarahSmith95, you're awesome! Thank you so much! I'm glad you like this story!**

 **Thanks for reading! Leave a comment or question if you have one! Love y'all!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Sorry I've been away for awhile. I just finished my semester.**

* * *

"What do you wanna watch?" Heather asked Grace. Jefferson had been sent upstairs for the night and he wasn't allowed to come down and interrupt them unless it was an emergency.

"Can we watch _Tangled_?"

"Of course!" Heather threw a bag of popcorn in the microwave and started it up. As it started popping Heather pulled out the small box she had that was full of different colored nail polish bottles. She didn't know why she had so many given she never painted her nails—both under the curse and since it had been broken—but she did and she just kind of ran with it. "Now what color do you want?" She lined them all up so Grace could see how many she had. They were in their pajamas and both had just gotten out of a shower so their hair was wet.

Grace stared for a moment before picking a really dark purple one. "This one for my toes and… _this_ one for my fingers!" she decided, also pointing at a vibrant pink one. Heather smiled and set up the movie and got out the popcorn when it was done and started another bag so they'd each have their own.

" _This is the story of how I died_ ," the movie started as Heather bent over Grace's small toes and started to carefully paint them. When the first foot was done she got out the other popcorn bag and emptied it into a bowl.

They giggled and sang through the movie, smiling. Heather hadn't felt so young in years and she wasn't even that old.

It was around ten-thirty when Grace got tired and fell asleep on Heather's shoulder. The movie was long-over. They'd just been talking and Heather had been doing her own nails when Grace fell asleep. Heather grinned and scooped her niece gently up into her arms, holding the eleven-year-old girl like a baby. She took Grace upstairs and tucked her in bed. Her niece unconsciously snuggled in as Heather set her rabbit in the crook of her elbow.

Heather went downstairs and started cleaning up.

"Have a fun girls' night?" Jefferson asked quietly, leaned against the wall with his arms folded. Heather jumped and almost dropped the popcorn bowl. She turned to him and smiled.

"Yeah. Thanks for not coming down," she replied. He smiled.

"No problem."

"I'm taking her to Granny's in the morning for breakfast, whenever she wakes up, by the way. As if she were having a sleepover at my apartment." Jefferson smiled wider. "Because everyone knows Granny makes the best hot chocolate in the entire town," Heather added with a grin as she plunged her hands into the soapy water to wash the popcorn bowls. Jefferson watched her with a grin.

"Really?" he asked curiously.

"You've never had Granny's hot chocolate?" Heather demanded incredulously.

"Can't say I have. I'm more of a tea man."

Heather smirked with half of her mouth. _Mad Hatter_ , she thought with amusement.

"Then it looks like I'll be treating you both to breakfast at Granny's tomorrow," she commented.

Jefferson grimaced. "How about _I_ treat _you_ to breakfast for being so good to my daughter?" he suggested.

"No. No. It's fine. I couldn't ask you to do that," Heather dismissed with a wave of her soapy hand.

"I insist," Jefferson pushed. "For being so good to Grace. Just let me do something small for you and we'll call it even. You're giving Grace something she needs but won't admit she needs—a mother figure." He shrugged. "As much as I might have resisted the notion when you brought it up, Grace does need a woman in her life." Heather could tell he didn't like admitting it. With her back to him she smiled and rinsed out the bowl.

"Okay then. Breakfast tomorrow morning. Your treat. After that, if I want to treat you and Grace to something, you let me."

Jefferson shrugged. "Alright." There was amusement in his voice. "Good night, Heather."

"Good night Jefferson."

He went back upstairs and went to bed.

When he woke up the next morning, he found Grace and Heather's beds were empty and neatly made. He went downstairs to see Grace sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen with Heather standing behind her, French braiding her niece's hair. They were both fully dressed and there was a small braid near Heather's face, but the rest was hanging loose around her torso to her hips. It was longer than Rosemary's and thicker, but the same color. They were smiling and whispering.

"Jefferson!" Heather exclaimed when she saw him. Grace moved to look around, Heather shuffling to keep braiding her hair.

"Morning Papa!" Grace greeted.

"Good _morning,_ my sweet Grace," he replied. Heather licked her lower lip to hide her smile and went back to braiding.

"Aunt Heather said we're going to Granny's for breakfast!"

"That we are. As soon as I get dressed."

The girls smiled at him excitedly and waved as he retreated back up the stairs to go get dressed.

He did so quickly. His usual black trousers, boots, button-up shirt with a vest, and scarf wrapped around the scar on his neck where his head had been reattached. He'd grab his overcoat on the way out the door. When he went back down into the kitchen, he tugged on Heather's little braid which was tucked behind her ear to get her attention and kissed the top of Grace's head as her aunt finished the French braid. They both greeted him brightly—and for a second he saw Rosemary's smile when Heather turned to look at him. He shook his head. When he looked back he saw his sister-in-law, who looked similar but not identical to his late wife.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"Just about," Heather replied as she stooped just enough to see where she was tying Grace's braid. "There we go!" Grace gave her aunt a hug—which was tightly returned with a grin. "Let's go, kid!" she said excitedly. Grace, bubbly and bright as always, grabbed her aunt and her father's hands and rushed for the door. Heather gave Jefferson a bright smile, her little braid flying around with her movement. Jefferson chuckled as Grace pulled them out the front door.

* * *

 **End Note: Thanks to all who reviewed! I'll try to PM you your review responses later!**


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